


Severus Snape and How Wrong He Was

by naomi_winchester



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt, Hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naomi_winchester/pseuds/naomi_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus is about to have a lecture of his life from none other than Harry Potter, and it's because he was a pompous ass, as always. Set in HPandtheSS First Year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Grudges

**Author's Note:**

> This is my oneshot, which was inspired by a photo. So yes, I know there was a tumblr post that had the same explanation, and I used it. SO,  
> Disclaimer- Harry Potter and it's characters belong to J.K Rowling, because they are from her intelligent mind. Alas, I can only alter the events to my liking, and hopefully, to yours. The explanation from Harry which you will read was also not mine, but inspiring to a young writer such as myself.

"Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity."

Harry grimaced at the reference. Ever since Harry had discovered the wizarding world, while a relief to leave his uncle, was tiring with all of the unwanted attention. He wasn't used to it, really. At the Dursleys, he had either not gotten attention at all, or got attention that leaves a few things to be desired. His uncle, in other words, was never kind, and it seemed that this Professor Snape had the same intentions. But maybe a little less drastic.

At his relatives (he loathed to call it home) he was nitpicked for everything he did, and his uncle was always in a snit whenever the ebony-haired boy showed his face, and was sure to give him a welcome-home present when the year was through. Harry wondered in they had magical doctors or just regular ones. It wouldn't matter, Harry thought, because the Dursley's wouldn't pay for the medical bill either way.

Another thing was his grades. They were always low, even in primary, D's to remain on the safe side of things, for Harry remembered the time when he had thought that bringing his straight A's home would be a good thing. He hadn't been given food for a month, and beaten twice a day, and back then, he was so scared, for he didn't even know if he would survive. Now he suspected that it was his magic keeping him alive.

He knew the treatment he got wasn't right. Children were supposed to have rooms, a bed, food. They were supposed to be praised for good work, not belittled for it. They were supposed to have love. For Harry, that was just a pipe dream. No one was going to help him.

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He looked up to the dark man, wondering what his intention was. And it was clear as he looked into the professor's eyes. He wanted to humiliate him.

Alright, Harry acknowledged, time to heat things up a bit.

Harry decided that he would actually use the intelligence he was born with for once, the intelligence he earned by going to the library when he was left on the porch alone by his 'family'. Damn the Dursley's, for this man seemed to want him to play stupid.

"Sir, academically, I wouldn't know. I've never studied anything magical in my life, with good reason, as I might as well have been a muggle-born at my home life," the pre-teen answered.

Snape critically raised an eyebrow. "You said academically?"

"I know what I said, Professor," Harry answered smoothly.

Snape sneered. Truly he wondered if the boy could answer the question otherwise, wishing to test the boy's intellect, even if what he was referring to was risky to be said aloud, for appearances sake, but he figured the boy was too pampered to know the difference between a twig and a tree.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mean, Mr. Potter, could you tell us what exactly your answer would be, if not academically in magical terms?"

Potter nodded. "I'd be delighted to sir," he paused. "It means you bitterly regret Lily's death."

They heard gasps around the classroom. Snape snorted, though Harry thought he could hear an edge of hysteria in it. "And how did you determine that, Mr. Potter?"

Harry hesitated. "Well sir, according to Victorian Flower Language, asphodel is a type of lily meaning 'my regrets follow you to the grave' and wormwood means 'absence' which typically symbolizes bitter sorrow. If you combine that, it means 'I bitterly regret Lily's death'."

He remembers that specific book, in fact, it was one of his favorites. He liked learning different languages, and that one was kind of unique to him. He also knew French, but he didn't see how that would help him any. He would have to learn Latin, Harry mused.

The silence was overpowering. Then again, Harry was used to it. He had been silenced more than enough in his cupboard.

"A cupboard, Mr. Potter?"

Snape had a curious look on his face, mixed with a sneer. Harry narrowed his eyes, knowing he didn't speak out loud. Harry figured he could read minds, or something. This was a magical world after all. The ill-tempered professor let out an exasperated sigh.

"I asked you a question, Potter!" he barked out. Harry flinched at his raised tone. Snape made a gesture with his hands to continue.

Harry's voice was hoarse, and he spoke in clipped tones. "My cupboard, where I sleep. Sir," he tacked on to the end. Harry was seething, gritting his teeth at the obvious disbelief in Snape's eyes. Snape hadn't gone through half of what he had gone through, so he could just butt out.

Snape looked even angrier once that thought passed. "DON'T LIE!" Then he regained composure. "Mr. Potter," he drawled," do you know that there is a potion that forces people to tell the truth?" Snape lived off of the anger on the young boy's face. He leaned over Potters desk, getting uncomfortably close to the boy as he spit out, "It's called veritaserum. They use it on prisoners in Azkaban."

He smirked at him, his onyx eyes gleeful, spiteful.

"I have veritaserum, and while, regrettably, it is forbidden from use on students, my hand might just slip over your morning Pumpkin Juice."

Harry was enraged by this point. How dare the man ask questions if he already had seemed to make up his mind about it?! The teen looked as angry as he felt. "Use all of the veritaserum you want! I can't help that you think it's unfair that I lived and she died! Take this into your consideration, I never knew her! I was told that my parents were no good, lousy, drunks that didn't give a rat's ass about me! I was told they died because they didn't want to live on the same damn planet as me, let alone take care of some freak like me. So go shove your pompous beliefs about me up your ass and do your research first!"

He strode across the room to the exit. As he got to the door, he turned, but just barely.

"Next time," he said in a hushed tone," I'll make sure to be the only target, then everyone can be happy," and with that, the door closed softly behind the distraught first year.


	2. Late Night Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS I AM SO UPSET. ALAN RICKMAN. DEAD.
> 
> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO LIVE FOREVER OR SOMETHING!
> 
> The worst part is, NO ONE SEEMS TO BE AS UPSET AS I AM EXCEPT MY FRIEND ALLIE. Everyone in this stinkin town is so unappreciative of Alan! Heck, I know this is mean to say, but I expected Morgan Freeman to be dead before Alan, at least. Or Michael Gambon.
> 
> Did any of you notice that about a few days before Alan died, David Bowie was an actor that also died of brain cancer, at age 69? If another good actor dies at age 69 of brain cancer I'll DEFINITELY know if somethings up.
> 
> Anyway, *cries*, here's the second chapter. I owe you guys so much more, and I'm so sorry for not updating within SIX MONTHS, but 8th grade is a bitch that REALLY doesn't like me.

Severus stood slack-jawed where he had just a few moments ago been belittling mini-Potter.

Except he wasn't.

As furious as it made him, he could see a spark of intelligence in the boy's-Lily's-eyes. Unfortunately, he had the face of the stupidest person he had ever known, and Severus Snape has seen plenty of stupid people. But Potter Sr. had been someone who Snape thought lived and breathed unintelligence.

As much as he hated to admit it, the boy had reacted just like Lily would have. He had the fiery temper that Lily often showed, and that just made his blood _boil_. He was expecting another arrogant, self-centered bully. Instead, the Potter that he had expected was seemingly almost just any other student. Unless, of course, you counted that _this_ student was famous for defeating the Dark Lord.

The dour man was on an emotional roller coaster, only showing his ups and downs by his eyes, when they flickered occasionally.

But no one was to see this, he had thought. So, he had bound the children to a secrecy spell that he had found when _he_ had been in Hogwarts. His pride couldn't afford to be hurt.

Too bad for him, because a late night visitor was going to hurt it anyway.

____________________________________________________

Just like every night, when Snape went to his quarters when the day was done, he went to the cupboards, pulling out a bottle of firewhisky and pouring a glass.

Except this time felt different. He didn't understand why it did. It didn't feel normal. Maybe it was the firewhisky running deep in his veins. Maybe it was Potter. He sat down heavily in his chair, gulping the first glass. Things went hazy, and he was about to pour another glass when a ghostly white hand snatched the firewhisky from his hands. He looked up-

And there she was. Eleven years it had been, but he didn't forget a single detail. The first words that come to mind were, "W-w-what? How? W-why?"

Lily stood there with a disapproving, angry face, not really looking all that happy to see him for being dead eleven years. "It's me, Severus. I'm here because I begged, and to tell you something that I didn't have the chance to. And I took your..." she looks disgusted, "...whiskey, because I need you to remember this."

He sits up from his 'drinking slouch', waiting for her next words.

He did not expect those words to be, "What the fuck is _wrong_ _with you_?"

He looked at her skeptically. "What do you mean, 'What's wrong with me?', nothing's wrong with me!" She glared at him. "Then what was that, earlier? That's my _son_ up in Gryffindor tower, and you treated him like the scum on _your boot._ "

Uh-oh. "You saw that?" He asked nervously.

Wrong question.

" _Saw it?_ Do you _actually think_ that it would be okay, as long as I _didn't see it?!_ Of course I saw it! Did you think I _wouldn't_ be watching over my son? Severus Snape-" Just like that, in the middle of one of her famous rants, she broke down into tears. Her ghostly form hovered close to the ground, and he could still hear her finishing her rant through her tears. "You _know_ about the prophecy. You know Voldemort is after him, and with everything else, he doesn't need _you_ treating him like you did today!"

"Me?! I just gave the brat what he deserved. He's probably been pampered his whole life," Severus scoffed at the thought. She looked him dead in the eye, speaking in a flat tone, "Probably is a dangerous word. You don't know anything about _my son._ " She stared at the dark dungeon window that was tinted green from the Black Lake. "That's actually why I'm here," she murmured. Silent tears streamed down her pale cheeks. "My baby's been through _so much._ He needs your help Sev. Desperately."

Snape snorted. "It must not be that bad, 'cause where's daddy? James never cared about anything or anyone but himself."

She ignored him, shaking her head, pleading with him, almost sobbing. "Please, please, please! You don't know anything! I'm begging you to help him. Please. From a mother for her _child._ Please. If you ever loved me-"

"YOU KNOW I LOVED YOU!" Snape screamed at her, losing his patience. "You knew that I loved you, and you left me for _Potter._ Then you had his spawn, so I think I got the message! Sorry Snape, you're not good enough for _Lily Evans."_

She looked at him like a deer in headlights, sparkling green eyes wide, fiddling with her dainty fingers. Severus recognized the nervous tick as what she would do when she had to say something. He sighed, his voice ragged as he said, "Spit it out. I know you have something to say, so spit it out."

She took a deep breath, and letting it go in a rush, _"He isn't James'."_

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you've mentioned that he isn't that prat. What would you know? You haven't been here."

She shot an angry look at him. "It's not like you've seen him since after you held him as a newborn! And I'm _dead,_ if you can't tell."

He flinched at her harsh words. She laughed harshly. "Oh yes, I've seen how you mourn. _I bitterly regret Lily's death._ " She sighed. "I don't blame you, Sev, I never have. But you must know, that's not what I meant."

Snape looked up. "What do you mean, 'that's not what I meant'? What else could that _possibly_ mea- No." He looked at her in desperate disbelief. "I can't -don't- believe you. That child was the exact copy of Potter!" She raised her eyebrow at him. "You seem to forget that you're a wizard, and I'm a witch, and that there's a thing called _magic-"_

"That's not the point, _Lily,_ and you know it!" Snape ran his hand over his face. "Merlin, I-I just... mine?" he whispered.

She smiled softly at him. "Yours."

He stared helplessly at the ground. "But it was one time! It wasn't even supposed to happen! You were with James, and I was- well, actually I was still pretty salty that you said yes to _him,_ but-" Lily cut him off with her bright laughter. "Did you just- oh my God. _Salty?_ " She burst into laughter again.

He looked at her defensively. "I was. _Very salty,_ actually _._ " She stopped laughing at the hidden warning in his tone of voice. "Right," she snickered, "Sorry."

"No you're not," he muttered, before going on, "Anyway, as I was saying, _I don't know how to be a FATHER!_ I don't even know how to take care of myself, most of the time!"

Her face softened at this, and she looked at him with a sad smile. "I would say it doesn't take much, but this is Harry we're talking about here." _Harry._ He mouthed the name, letting it roll over his tongue. It was odd, he was so used to _Potter._ "I will tell you one thing though, Severus. You mustn't let Harry defeat the Dark Lord." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I would seem to be the person to let my child go and gallivant around the school causing trouble, and facing delirious mad-starkers wizards that just happens to thirst for my child's blood, wouldn't I?"

Lily rolled her eyes back at him, saying, "That's not what I meant."

Severus snarked back at her, "Well, aren't we just full of hidden meanings today?"

Lily ignored him, saying _yet another thing_ that he didn't expect her to say.

"Tom has been framed. Severus, he is insane. You cannot trust Dumbledore, he's the one that cursed him. The curse can be removed by a potion." Severus gaped at her, before asking, "And I am expected to make this potion?" She nodded, "No one else could make it perfectly."

"How can I give it to him if he's just a spirit, wandering around?" Snape asked incredulously. Lily stared at him with a surprised face.

"What?" Snape asked defensively.

Lily cleared her throat. "Nothing... I just thought you already knew."

Snape looked at her quizzically. "Knew what?"

She looked at him strangely. "Voldemort is living on the back of Quirrel's head. He has been since halfway through summer break." She paused. "I must say that I _did_ think you were smarter than that. I mean, a spy, and a damn good one at that..."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up Lily. He stutters _all the time._ I thought the Dark Lord would get impatient with that before hiring _him,_ of all people..."

"The stutter's fake," Lily explained. Snape raised an eyebrow, a half sneer on his face. "It's impressively, realistically pathetic," he drawled. Lily laughed at him. "Oh, how I've missed you all of these years, Sev." He gave her a rare smile. "I've missed you too."

All was silent as both sat and thought, until Severus cleared his throat. "So... how long can you stay?" She jumped at the sudden question, then she started bouncing on her ghostly feet excitedly as she said, "A week! A week, Sev! It's so good to be down here again..."

Severus said something that had been on his mind since her arrival. "Why are you here with me? Surely you want to see your son more than this old fellow..." Lily smiled at him. " _Our_ son, Severus. "She corrected. "And I wanted to see you both. Equally. Because I love you both equally."

"You really mean that?" Severus whispered. Lily nodded. "With all my heart. But..." Severus guessed what she was going to say. "We need to tell Harry." She agreed, but then asked, "When do you think is a good time?"

Severus shrugged. "The sooner the better, I guess. How about now?" Lily rolled her eyes. "It's 9:30, Sev. They wouldn't be awake." He raised his eyebrows. "Lily, were you in Gryffindor or not? They're up until 10:30, at the least. Rowdy bunch of brats." Severus scowled. Lily facepalmed. "Duh. Okay, now or never. Can you bring him here, though? I want to explain it in privacy..."

He sighed. "Of course, send the Big Bad Dungeon Bat to go get his recently discovered son to see his mother's ghost, when said Dungeon Bat insulted him about his mother just that day..."

She smirked mischievously at him.

"Of course."

He groaned, but got up, thinking of how much he owed her, and owed his son. He briefly noticed her 'sitting' in his armchair before he left, stalking down to halls towards Gryffindor Tower.


End file.
